


The Hero

by inkwells_writing



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 17:50:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11213133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkwells_writing/pseuds/inkwells_writing
Summary: When Arthur was stood up yet again, he was ready to chew out his boyfriend. However, he was not expecting to see a villain in his apartment. He also wasn’t expecting to get kidnapped. Arthur realizes quickly he has some choice words the next time he sees his boyfriend.Warnings: There's some blood and swearing.





	The Hero

Arthur sighed as he checked his watch for the fiftieth time. Of course Alfred wasn’t on time. Was he ever on time?

_“I’ll be there at six!”_

_“And I’ll be leaving the restaurant at seven if you’re late.”_

_“I won’t be late this time! I promise, no work for me tonight!”_

That’s what he always said and it was always a huge, fat lie. For both of them. Alfred always blew him off and Arthur always, _always_ , waited hours for him.

Arthur folded up his napkin as the waiter stopped by his table again, “Oh, no. I’m fine. I’ll be leaving right now. Sorry for the waste of a table.” He set down a five as an apology for wasting a table on a Friday night and left the restaurant. He fumbled with the umbrella he brought (ignoring the fact he brought it solely to stand under it with Alfred; Arthur knows he likes to impersonate the movies) and began the walk to his apartment.

The rain continued to pour throughout his entire walk and Arthur told himself he was checking his phone not for a call from Alfred, but to see if anything from work is coming up. His phone was silent. Arthur purposefully closed the umbrella before he entered the apartment complex, quickly getting soaked. _See, it’s not tears. It’s the rain._

Arthur waved to the receptionist and took the stairs up to the apartment. He took deep, shaky breaths as he opened the door, stepping into the silent and empty apartment. He threw his jacket by the door and quickly stripped himself of his suit. Turning the shower knob to the hottest temperature, he stepped into the scalding water. Arthur sighed as he let his worries wash away for the moment. His shower was long and distracting.

As he stepped out of the shower, he looked to the clock. _9:00_. Arthur took his time putting his pajamas on, slipping into his too large and too empty bed to read a book until Alfred got home. He had words to say to his boyfriend and he could not let himself fall for Alfred’s common “apology breakfast” again. Soon it was 10:00. Then 11:00. As the clock flipped to show 2:00 am, Arthur began to get concerned.

Not even on bad days was Alfred this late. If it got to 12:00, he would at least find a way to text Arthur. Not being able to stand the rising panic in his chest, Arthur got dressed. He hated the feeling of wearing pajamas when he was stressed, and he hadn’t felt this stressed in a long time.

As he stepped into the room, he reached for the lightswitch. When the lights turned on, what he saw made Arthur began to scream, but found himself unable to make a noise. He scrambled backwards at the sight of a man, wearing a suit and tie, sitting on his couch. He knew who this was: the villain who plagued his city. He called himself The Puppet Master, and he was currently smirking at Arthur like his brother’s used to do before they would rip apart a stuffed animal of his.

As Arthur stood there, stunned and coughing painfully, The Puppet Master spoke, “I’m so happy you’re here! I can’t wait for The Hero to come try to save you. I’ve kept him busy and away from you. He’ll be delighted to know I was watching over you.”Arthur tried to speak, to question what was going on, to cry out, but found he couldn’t. The rational part of his brain wasn’t surprised at this revelation, because The Puppet Master’s power was to control people. Of course, Arthur was too busy panicking at the sight of a supervillain in his apartment to remember that.  
The Puppet Master stood to an imposing height and walked towards him, and Arthur tried to back away but realized his legs wouldn’t move. The last thing he saw was a white, gloved hand reaching for him before his brain shut down and he collapsed.

 

Arthur awoke to white marble and dark oak. There were pillars and giant staircases and a glass skylight and- _where the bloody hell am I?_ As Arthur looked around, he soon put the pieces together and realized he was in some grand ballroom. Once he realized that, he tried to stand, only to realize he couldn’t. His arms were pinned while his chest was tightly tied to a chair by a coarse rope.

Arthur tried to speak, but all that came out was incessant coughing.

A deep voice filled the air as Arthur doubled over, wheezing, “Ah, pardon that. It happens when I close off vocal chords. Forcing your brain to sleep also doesn’t help.”

Arthur whipped his head to the side, trying to look at who was talking, but the fast movement caused a pounding headache to erupt.

A hand came to rest on his shoulder, almost painfully, “You normal folk are always so easily manipulated. I wonder what your _Hero_ would do if he saw you like this.” A dark laughed filled the empty room and Arthur remembered what had happened before he woke up.

He coughed, clearing his throat, before croaking out, “What the bloody hell are you talking about?”

The person behind him came into view, and the intimidating frame of the Puppet Master made him lean away. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. You little hero who will come to your rescue when I let him know that I have you.” With that, the Puppet Master placed a camera in his face, “Say hello. I’m sure the Hero’s little company has this feed running.”

“I don’t- I- What are you doing? What’s going on?” Arthur stuttered out, confused to hell and back.

“Now, now,” the Puppet Master tisked, “that won’t get your Hero rushing over here, now will it? He needs a scared, hurt damsel, not a snarky asshole.” The Puppet Master raised his hand, and Arthur felt as though his windpipes were closing in. He began gasping and choking.

Arthur coughed and tasted blood, and the Puppet Master spoke to the camera, “See this Hero? You might want to get down here soon. Who knows how desperate he will get?”

Arthur felt his mouth open, and suddenly he was speaking words that were not his own, “Oh, Hero! Save me! He has me trapped and I am so scared!” Arthur gagged as he felt the pressure on his neck cease, and felt hot tears stream down his face.

“Oh, look at him. So pathetic. I wonder what else I can get him to say?”

The pressure was back and Arthur’s voice was ripped from his throat once more as his head was forced to look into the camera, “I hate you. I never want to see you again, _Alfred_.” The tears kept coming, and Arthur felt confusion settle under the intense fear and pain he was in.

“Oh, look, Hero. He knows your identity now. Whoops.” The camera was suddenly crushed in the hand of the Puppet Master. The man’s other hand came to rest on Arthur’s head, “You are a good actor. Easy to convince to do things. I will have to have you around again.”

Arthur could only cough more blood onto his pants as the Puppet Master walked away, a skip in his step.

With no ways to count the time, Arthur could only watch the Puppet Master as he walked the room in large, unnerving circle. The man kept making calls and fiddling with some object or another. Luckily, he didn’t approach Arthur again, and he had time to recover from whatever the _fuck just happened_.

He had, of course, heard of the Puppet Master. And the Hero. They were a villain and a hero, respectively, who resided in New York. They were constantly plastered over the news with tales of the Puppet Master robbing a bank, being stopped by the Hero, and just barely escaping capture. Or the Puppet Master would kidnap the owner of a museum, and the Hero would swoop in and save the day.

They both had powers, like many people did. No one knew the real identity of these mutants (or Supers, as they called themselves. It was a less harsh word than the slander some media outlets dubbed them), but many of them decided to take on personas, either good or evil, to make use of their powers.

Arthur had never encountered any of them, but thinking back on it, he easily could have passed them in his normal life. They all had normal lives outside of their nightly escapades. He could even be dating one of them, couldn't he?

The Puppet Master made him say Alfred’s name when he was addressing the Hero. Arthur could not comprehend that his boyfriend was the greatest Super in New York. It simply didn’t make any sense!

_Or does it?_ Arthur thought. Alfred’s “normal business job” that he refused to go into detail about. His strange hours. Missing and canceled dates that _corresponded with news stories of the Hero and the Puppet Master_.

_Bloody hell_ , Arthur blanched, _I’ve been dating a superhero this whole time_.

As Arthur came to the realization, the Puppet Master looked towards the ceiling and smiled, “He’s finally here. Took his stupid people long enough to find me.”  
And with that, all hell broke loose.

The glass ceiling caved in, shards flying everywhere, as a red figure fell through. Well, not exactly ‘fell.’ That would imply it being ungraceful and uncontrollable; this person appeared to be flying. Arthur quickly realized they were, in fact, flying. The person came to stand in the center of the room, staring not at the Puppet Master, but at Arthur. Arthur would have been more concerned with the glass shards raining down if he wasn’t too busy staring back at who had just flown through the ceiling.

It was Alfred.

He had on a red suit with blue sleeves and a white star. His strong arms and wheat blonde hair. A white mask that surrounded blue, blue eyes that Arthur has gotten lost in hundreds of times. Instead of his normal sunny smile, however, Alfred looked furious. Arthur suddenly became hyper-aware of the blood he had coughed onto himself, and the furious red marks that the rope made in his arms as it restrained him.

Alfred- _the Hero_ \- turned his gaze behind Arthur and onto the Puppet Master, who hadn’t moved. “What the fuck did you do to him,” he growled.

The Puppet Master laughed, and put a hand on Arthur’s shoulder again.

His throat closed up as Arthur was forced to speak, “Oh, I’ve done nothing, Alfred.”

Alfred didn’t look at Arthur as his voice was made not his own, simply kept his gaze on the Puppet Master. “I will give you five seconds to get your fucking hand off of him, walk out of this room, and let me take him out of here. There is no reason for an innocent to get involved.”The Puppet Master sighed, “No, no, no. Hero, you are not understanding. He wants to be here, don’t you Arthur?”

Arthur felt the hand dig into his shoulder as he spoke, “I want to be here.”

Alfred took a single step forward, the glass crunching beneath his boots, “Turn around, Puppet Master, and leave. You know how much stronger I am. Let me and him leave.”

The Puppet Master slowly slid his hand down Arthur’s arm and to the rope that bound the arm to the chair. He untied the rope and leaned down to the ground before placing something in Arthur’s hand.

Arthur clutched the thing, despite the stinging pain it created, and found he could not let go or cry out. He looked down and realized the Puppet Master had placed one of the glass shards into his hand. He was holding it so tightly it began digging into his palm. Arthur was powerless to stop his arm as it moved towards his own neck, unrestricted by the rope.

“Stop!” Alfred yelled, and Arthur did. “What do you want, whatever it is. I’ll do it. Just don’t hurt him.”

Arthur had never seen such raw fear and desperation on a person's face. And with Alfred’s arm outstretched, half stepping forward, Arthur looked into his eyes and knew that what he was saying was true. Alfred would do _anything_ right now.

A deep chuckle from behind startled Arthur, and it soon devolved into a horrifying laugh, “You are really stupid, Hero! This is exactly what I want. To see you powerless as you are now.” The Puppet Master looked at his watch and sighed, “However, as much as I love watching you grovel like this, I have other things to attend to right now. And your silly little group of freaks are going to arrive soon. Can’t let the little blonde one get a read on my future plans, now can I.”

As the Puppet Master began to walk away towards one of the doors in the large ballroom, Arthur felt his throat close up once more, “See you soon, Alfred. A warning, though; you need to take better care of those close to you. This one is getting fed up with your cheap lies. Can’t lose my biggest playing card because you’re being neglectful.”

And as Arthur curled over, his arm falling to his side as he coughed up blood, the Puppet Master left the room.

Arthur was vaguely aware of Alfred rushing towards him. Arthur’s throat burned, and his hand opened to let the glass fall to the ground. His hand was bleeding, and his throat was bleeding, and he wanted to rest .

But he couldn’t do that yet. Not with Alfred carefully untying him, whispering with a hoarse voice questions about if he was okay.

“Alfred- Alfred.” Arthur raised his unbloody hand to rest on Alfred’s face. “I’m fine.” He wasn’t, but he was fine enough that Alfred could stop looking at him with those blue, blue eyes that held so many apologies. Alfred stilled when the hand touched his face and his eyes fluttered close. The room was silent as Alfred slowly and delicately finished untying Arthur.

As the final rope was removed, Arthur realized how exhausted he was and fell forward, into Alfred’s arms. He was easily lifted into his arms (too easily, in fact. Arthur vaguely remembered that the Hero’s main power was incredible strength) and Arthur slowly fell asleep as loud and panicked voices began to fill the room. 

 

Arthur awoke to the sound of a hushed argument.

“Ya, he knows now. Couldn't really avoid it.”

“Ludwig isn’t going to be happy, you know. He doesn’t like people knowing unless you’re super committed.”

“Matthew, you of all people should know how committed I am.”

“No matter what, he can’t go back to our apartment. I told you what the Puppet Master said.”

“Yes, Alfred, I know but-”

“Talking about me, I see.” The two voices froze as Arthur spoke up in a cracked voice. He opened his eyes, before closing his eyes again as he realized the light was too bright. He felt a presence rush next to where he was lying.

“Arthur, you’re up. Thank fuck.” Alfred’s familiar voice spoke close to his ear. A warm hand settled atop his own.

Arthur cleared his throat before speaking again, “Alfred, I don’t think I can forgive you.”

The third voice in the room spoke up after Arthur spoke, “I’m going to- you guys probably want some, ummm, bye.” Arthur heard a door quickly open and close.

“Arthur, I am so, so sorry for getting you mixed up in all of that, but listen, I can explain. I-”

Arthur cut him off as he opened his eyes and smiled at Alfred, “You better have an explanation. You missed another bloody date. I had to embarrass myself in a nice restaurant while you were what, saving a kitten from a tree? Is that what you superheros do?”

Alfred’s worried face froze, before melting into strained laughter. “Arthur, I love you so much. I’ll make the date up to you.”

Arthur closed his eyes, “How does tomorrow sound?”

“Perfect.”

“Good. Now, love?”

“Yes, Arthur?”

“I want to sleep for three more years before you explain exactly what the bloody hell happened.”

“Got it.”

Arthur felt Alfred stand and he grabbed at his hand before it left his, “I don’t want to fall asleep to an empty bed again.”

Arthur could practically feel Alfred’s smile as he crawled next to Arthur on the small bed, “Got it, sweetheart.”

And they slept.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic for the fandom and this account! Thank you for reading! I'm also posting this on my tumblr, @inkwells-writing !


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